


Pushing Back

by levitatethis



Category: Heroes - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Canon, Angst, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-05-17
Updated: 2010-05-17
Packaged: 2017-10-09 12:53:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/87695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/levitatethis/pseuds/levitatethis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the future the Resistance is attacked and needs to reorganize</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pushing Back

Sharp jagged shards of glass push up through the flesh of Mohinder's feet as he is forced to run for his life. Broken windows guide the way and Mohinder, roused from an afternoon nap by the surprise attack, moves with the agility only possible because of the adrenalin pumping through his body.

In between the rapid gunfire the only thing Mohinder recalled hearing was Elle yelling at him to, "Run! Run! Run!" as she shot off bolts of electricity to aid their escape. He has not heard her since.

At the end of the fifth floor hallway Mohinder stops at the closed door to the stairwell and glances behind him in the desperate hope of seeing her appear from around the distant corner. His eyes go to the broken windows that line the left side of the hallway and he is shocked at the brazen daytime attack.

He is certain that he and Elle have been careful; partnered up and sent out with Bennet's objectives in hand to bring in Nora Selonka, the mission had seemed perfectly doable, so much so that Elle's insistence to splurge and stay in a hotel instead of a motel for their time there did not require much arm twisting for Mohinder to finally acquiesce.

Panicked breathing nearly convulses his already shaking body and he slams his fist against the door as he realizes all of his belongings are still in the room. There is no time to rest however as gunfire starts up again. He forgets about lost possessions and pushes the door handle down, opening it, and steps into the stairwell.

Everything fades to black.

 

************ ********** ********** ********** ************

 

Mohinder had come to on the bed of an apartment, the location of which he is still unclear about, with Sylar sitting the end hunched over his feet.

Surprised, Mohinder had snatched his legs up and tried to scramble back sending sharp jolts of pain up through his feet.

"Ow!" he had cried out, hissing with pain.

Sylar's serious eyes looked up to him while he held his hands up in a show of, _'I'm not going to hurt you,'_ and said, "That's what happens when you don't hold still."

They stared at each other, Sylar impatiently waited for Mohinder to relax and Mohinder tried to calm his racing mind and heart down.

"I can do this myself," Mohinder asserted referring to his injured feet.

Sylar rolled his eyes and said with irritation, "Just let me finish. I'm doing it with my own bare hands. There's nothing for you to worry about, Mohinder."

The reference to their agreement from a year earlier hung between them. It had been one of Mohinder's main terms, non-negotiable, when Bennet had first announced the plan for Sylar to work with the Resistance. There were a lot of negotiating points Sylar had reluctantly agreed to with a dismissive attitude, many of which he had already backtracked on, but not using his abilities on Mohinder remained untouched, taken as seriously now as it was then.

Which is how they ended up with Mohinder stretched back out again watching Sylar tending to his wounds in a constrictive silence.

Hearing what must be the apartment door open and close Mohinder nervously looks to the bedroom door and sees Elle enter in a frantic state carrying what appears to be an armful of his belongings.

"Elle, you're okay," he says with a relieved smile and she drops everything to the floor, bounding over and slamming into him with a huge hug.

The force of her exuberance at seeing him alive and well almost knocks him over sideways, again striking pain from his wounds.

"Ahhh," comes Mohinder's muffled gasp from beneath Elle's smothering body.

"Sorry," Sylar instinctively says, not looking up.

"No you're not," Mohinder muses as he twists his face clear of Elle's suffocating body.

Sylar smirks. "You're right, I'm not," he says and sits back waiting for Elle to back off.

"Oh Mohinder, I knew you'd be okay. I totally saved your ass," Elle singsongs.

"Uh, yes," Mohinder agrees and awkwardly bends his left arm up to pat Elle. "You can let go now, Elle…I can't breathe."

It takes a bit of a maneuvering but soon Elle is extricated from him. Standing up she happily rustles her left hand through his hair. Only then does she notice Sylar's amused presence staring at an embarrassed Mohinder. Her eyes go small in annoyance and she looks on the verge of saying something completely inappropriate when she is distracted by the work he is trying to do on Mohinder's feet. A silly grin lights up her face.

"Pedicures? Are we playing footsies? Can I be next?" Elle flirtatiously asks moving closer to Sylar and placing her hands on his shoulders as she climbs onto the bed and kneels behind him, starting to massage his shoulders.

Sylar, trying to concentrate on finishing what he started, shrugs Elle's hands off and states, "Don't touch me."

Elle makes a face at the rebuke and whines, "But you let Mohinder touch you."

"That was work—tests and…it's different," Mohinder sputters against her assertion, his face heating up from the subtle blush settling in and he notices the small smile that plays on Sylar's lips.

Elle presses down on Sylar's shoulders again eliciting a growling, "Don't. Touch." It is followed by Sylar telekinetically removing her hands from his body and knocking her into a seated position next to him, facing away from Mohinder.

"Hmmph!" she mutters and lies back letting her legs hang from the edge of the foot of the bed while folding her arms across her chest. After a few seconds staring at the ceiling she turns on her side to face them. Curling her legs up beneath her she rests her head on her bent up right arm while tracing invisible circles across the patterned blanket with her left hand, inching closer and closer to Mohinder's leg.

She watches Sylar who is intently focused on the last of the wounds and sees the brief glances he casts up to Mohinder who is staring right back. Elle's eyes go back and forth between the two, a barely contained grin growing wider when Sylar announces, "All done."

"Do you two want to be alone or can I watch?" she suggestively jokes and begins giggling.

Her words break their gaze and they redirect their focus, Mohinder with shifty and flustered eyes and Sylar with a steady glare, on her. Before either can respond a noise from outside the room signals the arrival of the others.

"Mohinder!" Maya worriedly says from the bedroom door. She takes a few determined steps into the room before noticing Sylar, which brings her to sudden stop.

"Great," Sylar utters sarcastically, drawing a reprimanding look of firm eyes from Mohinder.

Slovenly, Sylar steps up from the bed and Mohinder pulls his feet back, sitting up. Shifting over on the bed Mohinder smiles at Maya and nods for her to come over. Ignoring Sylar, Maya walks to Mohinder and sits next to him, putting her back to Sylar, and grasps his hands with hers.

"Are you okay? When we heard about the attack—and—you're okay?" she asks rapidly, not taking a breath.

"I'm fine," Mohinder assures her as he recognizes the deep concern for her over losing yet another person she has come to trust so infinitely. "The wounds were superficial. Sylar—,"

Mohinder stops short and Maya briefly glances behind her at Sylar, whom Mohinder sees is watching them with disagreeable eyes focused on their clasped hands. Not persuaded to ever forgive him for what he has done to her, Maya hardly acknowledges him before resting her eyes back on Mohinder.

Squeezing her hands Mohinder let's go with the briefest of glances at Sylar who promptly walks over to Bennet and Peter as they enter the room.

"Are you okay?" Mohinder asks Maya, suddenly more concerned for her own well being, and catches Peter's nod over to him which he returns.

More calm and relaxed, Maya nods yes and begins to explain what Peter and her had been through the day before. Elle, annoyed at being ignored, makes her way over to Peter, shooting an unacknowledged territorial glare at Maya along the way.

Listening to Maya, Mohinder is amazed at the strides she has made since first arriving at his apartment years earlier. There exists a challenging confidence now, much of which comes from her ability to not only control her power, but to channel it as a precise weapon that has aided in their fight.

The addition of Peter now sharing her power has provided Maya with the comforting knowledge of a partner, something she has spoken candidly about with Mohinder many times before.

She has also admitted, with a vengeful joy, that Sylar's inability to claim her power for his own while Peter uses it at his own whim brings a certain satisfaction to a situation—working on the same side as Sylar—that she still finds incredibly difficult.

Mohinder understands her position well even though his own thoughts and feelings toward Sylar have gone through their own tumultuous journey. With Maya he has shared the honesty of his earliest days with Sylar but he has purposely kept the inexplicable transformation of those later most personal sentiments to himself.

There would be no proper starting point for Maya to understand especially since Mohinder cannot fully comprehend it either. His skepticism regarding Sylar's intentions is still in place but it is no longer buried in cynicism. The questioning curiosity still exists but their standard opposition now has a routine argumentativeness instead of scathing antagonism.

While Maya keeps talking Mohinder breaks their look to watch the group near the door as they engage in a heavy discussion he is unable to make out. Bennet is gesturing a firm pointed finger in Sylar's face only to have Sylar knock him back on his feet with just the flick of his hand. Bennet's angry reaction brings a taunting smile to Sylar's face and he casually puts his hands in his pockets and walks away, choosing instead to lean against the wall where he casts a quick watchful look at Mohinder before fixing his eyes on Bennet, who has refocused his attentions on Peter and Elle.

Mohinder cracks a smile at Peter's useless attempts to not let Elle run roving hands over him. Maya stops talking and looks to her left, watching Peter and Elle. She grins back at Mohinder and says, "She doesn't like me."

Bashful at being caught in his distraction Mohinder jokes, "Because you're a woman?"

"That and—," Maya leans closer to whisper a mocking secret, "She can't zap me like she does the rest of you."

Mohinder's confused look prompts Maya to continue, "I might get upset."

Mohinder lets out a laugh that is clipped by Bennet's unappreciative, "Glad to see you can find humour in all of this, considering everything."

"It's not like he knows, Noah," Peter defends Mohinder with an apologetic look.

"Considering what?" Mohinder asks, immediately serious.

For the benefit of having the undivided attention of the entire room Bennet raises his voice and explains, "You and Elle—The Resistance—were attacked by a very elite security group. A highly secretive organization."

"More secretive than The Company?" Mohinder questions.

"The only objective this group has is to protect The Company at any and all costs," Bennet replies.

"Like Blackwater or Black Ops?" Peter inquires with concern.

Bennet sighs, nodding at Peter, and looks around the room to make sure that each person present understand the importance of what he is telling them.

"The difference is that they don't work in the shadows," Bennet states. "They are the shadows."

A tense silence reflects the worried consensus of the room until Mohinder speaks up. "So where do we go from here?"

The question draws an appreciative look from Bennet who tosses a brief glance at Sylar, still leaning against the wall.

"I have the sparsest of information right now," Bennet admits. "With only a few names…we'll need to reorganize accordingly."

"Reorganize?" Mohinder repeats with uncertainty. "What does that mean?"

"It means I'm stuck with Ms. No Fun," Elle laments with a childish pout directed at Maya, who groans with her own disappointment at the news.

"Yes well taking into account everyone's strengths and weaknesses," Bennet stresses the last word with an inflection of distaste at the unavoidable fallibility of each of the people on his team, including himself, "We need to make the best use of partnering up. Elle and Maya…Peter will now be with me and…"

Mohinder's heart thuds as the words flow forth and Bennet looks again to Sylar who moves away from the wall towards the bed.

"Sylar and you will be working together."

Mohinder looks over to Sylar who returns his uncertain look, although Sylar's seems more contingent on what Mohinder's reaction to the news is, as the words thunder through his skull. Quietly Maya stands up, placing her right hand on Mohinder's shoulder and offers a friendly squeeze of reassurance before making her way towards Peter.

Holding Sylar's eyes in his own Mohinder flatly asks, "Is that really necessary?" and looks over to Bennet.

Sylar murmurs a contained laugh and replies, "Yes," never taking his eyes from Mohinder who greets the response with an annoyed sigh.

"Why can't I partner with Mohinder?" Peter asks trying to be helpful by offering a viable solution that could put Mohinder more at ease while also giving Peter more time to reconnect with an old friend; besides Peter is willing to try anything to avoid being stuck with Bennet.

Sylar glares at Peter over the suggestion.

"Because you're with me," Bennet answers sternly much to Sylar and Elle's obvious amusement.

Peter shoots Mohinder an, _'I tried,'_ look. Elle rests her head on his shoulder and thoughtfully muses, "Don't worry Peter, they only have eyes for each other," as she wraps her left hand around his upper left arm while sliding her right hand into his left one.

Maya looks curiously at Mohinder and then questioningly at Sylar who moves to sit on the bed near Mohinder's legs. He looks back at her with an unwavering stare that challenges her to oppose this realignment. She holds his gaze as long as she can before turning away with frustration.

Sylar smirks and stretches his legs out. Leaning back on the bed he nudges Mohinder's legs out of the way, pushing Mohinder to bend them and make more room, so that he can rest back on his elbows.

There is a familiarity hinted at in the otherwise meaningless gesture that Mohinder is not only certain Sylar initiated with intention but did so with the knowledge that it would be noticed by most everyone in the room. Judging by the array of expressions leveled their way: curiosity, apprehension, irritation, Mohinder knows that Sylar has made his point. Mohinder swings his legs over the bedside and tenderly touches them to the floor, wincing at the pain.

"I can fix that," Peter offers and manages to pull himself free of Elle.

Mohinder can feel Sylar seize up next to him and he says, "Thank you, Peter."

Kneeling in front of Mohinder, Peter takes his injured feet in his hands and feels gently along the bottom, then over the top, and back underneath to let the bottoms rest flat against his palms. A tingling sensation tickles Mohinder's soles as Peter concentrates with his eyes closed. After a few seconds Peter opens his eyes and says, "Good as new."

Mohinder smiles at his healed feet. "That's incredible," he whispers, still awed by displays of such mind-bending prowess.

Peter smiles and, standing up, casts his own daring eyes at Sylar who grits his teeth and fists his hands.

Ignoring the silent pissing contest Bennet says, "We should get going. The encrypted text containing names and objectives will be messengered tomorrow morning. Get some rest." He nods at Mohinder, the closest thing to _'I'm glad you're okay,'_ he will ever give, and leaves the room.

Peter clasps Mohinder on the shoulder and promises, "See you soon," before exiting the room with Elle in tow who offers a wink of her eye over her left shoulder. Maya approaches Mohinder, paying no attention to Sylar's intense eyes analyzing her actions. Leaning over she places a friendly kiss on Mohinder's right cheek. "It will all be fine," Mohinder shares with her, goading a welcome smile from her troubled face, concern etched in a wrinkled brow from worrisome thoughts.

Mohinder and Sylar watch her walk away and listen for the mass exodus out the front door. Alone, again, they sit side-by-side in a restless quiet. From the corner of his eye Mohinder can see the tension still resting in Sylar's stiff shoulders held rigidly still, as his hands remain tightly clenched on the bed. Looking ahead at the open bedroom door Mohinder exhaustively asks, "What?"

Saying nothing at first Sylar takes a deep breath then answers, "Why is it okay for Peter to use his abilities on you and not me? It seems hypocritical."

Mohinder thinks for a moment before settling on, "Peter's never used his abilities to beat the crap out of me."

Sylar turns stormy eyes on Mohinder. "I tossed you around a bit," he clarifies in a dismissive tone.

"You stuck me to the ceiling…gleefully," Mohinder throws the words back with his own punishing eyes.

"You had performed a spinal tap, ever the torturous researcher," Sylar argues and turns his body towards Mohinder.

"You'd murdered a handful of people and lied so that you could use me to find more victims," Mohinder counters and leans forward to rest his arms on his legs with his face turned to focus on Sylar.

"You shot a bullet at my head—,"

"Which you stopped—,"

"But Bennet couldn't so you're not exactly innocent," Sylar states.

"He was going to kill—,"

"Exactly. You can justify it, Mohinder."

"You killed Maya, not knowing if I could bring her back. Where's the justification in that?" Mohinder demands, rising to his feet and glaring down at Sylar.

Sylar fumes, his face clenched in strong lines. "Always so protective," he condescends and stands up to counter Mohinder's offense, "Except when I was asking for your help."

Mohinder's defiant eyes briefly falter and fall to the floor as he remembers a nearly deadly mistake. It takes but a second for him to regroup, however, and unflinching eyes pierce Sylar's as he says, "A momentary show of conscience. Too bad it didn't stop you from trying to get Peter to blow up in your place."

Smoldering exasperation plays out in deep-set lines that form across Mohinder's forehead above darkening eyes and he utters, "You shot twenty nails through his body with a nail gun—,"

"He healed didn't he?"

"That's hardly the point," Mohinder snaps.

"You tossed Claire from a moving train," Sylar reminds him, refusing to back down.

"To protect her during an escape," Mohinder defends, "Not to see how badly I could maim her."

Another silence stagnates between them until Sylar mutters, "You almost cracked Bennet's skull open."

"I…knocked him unconscious. He'd been injected with a truth serum. You're the one who nearly crushed his windpipe from across the room," Mohinder shoots back.

"He was going to get us caught!" Sylar points out irately. "As if you didn't enjoy that anyway."

"And clipping the back of Peter's car and sending him careening off the bridge," Mohinder goes on. "Idiots playing chicken—,"

"When are you going to let that go?" Sylar shouts. "He was as much to blame."

Hurt anger spills between them as an unplanned and unwanted trip to the past revisits them. The longer they steadfastly hold each other in an imprisoning stare the more cognitive they are of their opposition dissipating. Mohinder sighs and is about to speak when Sylar cuts him off.

"I haven't used my powers on you in a long time, Mohinder…long before you ever demanded it," he says calmly.

"I know," Mohinder admits wearily. "It's just…"

His voice trails off and he looks away with a melancholy expression, unable to complete the sentiment that goes much deeper than their blistering words.

"Yeah, I know," Sylar eventually mumbles but there is a hint of regret at the unchanging reasoning that still has an anchored hold in Mohinder.

"It's been a busy day," Mohinder quietly says. "Let's get some rest and then tomorrow…"

"Road-trip," Sylar finishes for him and their eyes reconnect with a flicker of memories from the last time they traveled together, when Zane was an integral character in their sordid play that neither thought would ever lead to this.

Mohinder eyes the pile of his belongings on the floor and walks over to pick through it while Sylar kicks off his shoes and hops on the bed, lying down on the right side with his arms under his head.

Surprised, Mohinder looks over and says, "What are you doing?"

Sylar turns his head to the right and replies innocently, "Resting."

"Not here you're not," Mohinder snarks, standing up with a t-shirt in hand. "There must be a sofa in the living room."

"And you're more than welcome to sleep there," Sylar muses with a self-amused smile. "But after housing with Bennet for so long…well, let's just say I'm going to enjoy sleeping in a bed."

Vexed, Mohinder looks back at his heap of stuff, thankful at the realization that Elle managed to swipe his shoes. Motivated enough to attempt for a comfortable night, if not a restful one, he makes his way to the bed. Sylar has his eyes closed but it does not escape Mohinder's notice that Sylar peeks at him from under barely opened eyelids.

With Sylar resting on top, Mohinder lifts up the blanket on his side and slides under. He thinks about turning on his right side and putting his back to Sylar but knows that would be out of stubbornness. Besides he would be unable to drift off with the remote possibility of Sylar watching him from behind. Instead Mohinder settles on his back and stares up at the ceiling. Only then does it occur to him that the room light is still on. An uttered curse word and he moves to get up when Sylar stretches out his right arm and points his index finger toward the wall switch, signaling downward to turn it off, then rests his arm under his head again.

"Thanks," Mohinder says appreciatively as he rests back on the bed.

"You're welcome," Sylar yawns and wriggles closer to Mohinder while staying on top of the blanket.

Mohinder can feel the tug of the blanket against the left side of his body as Sylar's movement forces it down. Mohinder jerks his left arm free from the suddenly constricting material and rests it on top. Sylar drops his right arm to his side; near enough that Mohinder can sense it next to his without any physical contact.

In the darkness the only thing to focus on are each other: distinct but matching breathing, the subtle movement of the bed rising and lowering beneath their bodies, the body heat from such close proximity building uncomfortably.

Mohinder reaches up with his left hand to scratch his face and when he rests it back on the bed it accidentally makes direct contact with Sylar's arm. He cannot help but wonder if Sylar has moved closer. More worth noting, however, is that neither shifts away from the touch. Casually Mohinder rests his left arm across his chest.

"Goodnight Mohinder," Sylar says and Mohinder is certain he can hear a grin in his voice.

"Goodnight."

 

************ ********** ********** ********** **********   
**

It must be early morning when Mohinder awakens based on the streams of light breaking through the window blinds across from him. In no rush to ascertain the time, Mohinder greets the morning still on his back but now with his face towards Sylar. It is unnecessary for him to move if he wishes to watch the slumbering man beside him. Mohinder simply has to open his eyes.

In the course of the night Sylar has turned himself on to his right side, curled up with his face next to Mohinder's. Breathing steadily, Mohinder feels the hot air cool down as it strikes his face. Normally he would expect to feel rushed and awkward at waking to such a scene, but there is an indescribable serenity to the simplicity of such a moment. Calmness, not tied to heightened emotions or at the mercy of tumultuous situations, resides in a rare stillness around them.

Mohinder peers inquisitively at Sylar's face. Gabriel, he thinks for the first time, looking so unassuming and less hindered by the egotistical pretense he now overtly carries when awake. Messy dark hair sticks up at all angles from his head and three days worth of stubble pepper his otherwise clear face.

"Should I be flattered or scared that you like watching me sleep?" Sylar startles Mohinder with the faint hint of a smile and eyes still closed.

Mohinder's eyes shoot straight up to the ceiling, embarrassed at being caught. A few moments of silence brings Mohinder's eyes back to Sylar who is now watching him, waiting.

"I was thinking you actually look innocent when you sleep," Mohinder tells a half-truth, keeping any further personal revelations under wraps.

Sylar smirks and closes his eyes ever so slightly to give his dark eyes the look of a predatory appearance. "A wolf in sheep's clothing," he remarks.

Mohinder waits a beat to reply, "And what does that make me?"

Sylar's eyes open wide again, giving him the immediate appearance of friendliness. "Little Red Riding Hood," he suggests with a mocking grin.

"Meaning you end up dead?" Mohinder retorts and Sylar grimaces at not thinking that far ahead.

Sylar rolls on to his back and stretches his arms up to the ceiling while letting out a yawn.

"We should get up," Mohinder says, keeping his eyes on Sylar's profile. He watches Sylar stare up with a serious expression that eventually gives way to a smile.

"What are you grinning about?" Mohinder asks curiously.

Sylar turns to look at Mohinder thoughtfully saying, "It's been awhile since it was just the two of us."

An idea races through Mohinder's mind that he ponders ignoring before deciding otherwise. "Did you ask Bennet to put us together?"

Sylar's expression gives nothing away and he answers with his own question, "Does it matter?"

Briefly holding the gaze, Mohinder thoughtfully says, "I guess it really shouldn't come as a surprise either way," and he looks over at the bedroom door before rolling out of the bed and stumbling towards his mess of belongings on the floor.

Picking through it he settles on a clean button-down print shirt and looks over to find Sylar watching him questioningly. "It always seems to come back to this, whether we initiate it or not, doesn't it?" Mohinder explains. "Seems useless to pretend otherwise."

Sylar grins knowingly and looks back at the ceiling. Mohinder turns on his heels to find the bathroom with thoughts of the unknown road ahead bringing an uncertain and anticipating smile to his face. 

 

 


End file.
